Day times of short. Lands of white.
Winter solstice was just around the corner, and the frost had fallen over the entire village in heavy covers, hardening all surfaces with a thick embrace of ice, welcoming the yearly celebration of yule very beautifully.
Frida had spent most of the time with the children in the long-hall. They had helped the servants put up yule decorations, mistletoes and hollies hanging down abundantly from the ceiling with red berries and curvy garlands in between, and many of the villagers had brought her and Ragnar billy goats made out of straw* as to wish them a happy winter solstice.
The goats had been placed on the snow just outside the doors leading to the longhouse with candles in pots as a sign of hospitality for whoever passed their way. It was a belief here in these lands that on the day of winter solstice, a man disguised as a billy goat would visit the houses with lights in them, eat and drink, and then go on to the next. And he would bring with him the word of each household's generosity and favor and pass it on to the gods, so it was important to offer your guests the best treatment you could manage on this special evening.
Frida enjoyed this time of year greatly.
Even though the outsides were stone hard and cold, unforgivable and harsh, the insides, filled with people, were warm and caring, and she could not help but to smile as she looked out over the long-hall with Ragnvald at her chest, her heart swelling warmly in her core as she took in the sight of her surrounding friends and family.
Most of them were already here, even before the feast had begun.
The lovely fragrance of roasted duck lay thick in the air already, causing Freke by Frida's side to raise his ears constantly, his nose twitching along, and a line of drool hanging from the corner of his mouth.
Ragnhildir was sitting next to him, playing with his silvery fur in soft movements. She was always very gentle with him, as he was with her.
Ivar was playing a game with Athelstan, while Ubbe and Hvitserk had entered the white wonderland outside with their uncle and Bjørn for a snowball fight. At the children's corner sat Helga and Lagertha, singing a song about Norwegian trolls with Angrboða and Sigurd, and over by the fire Ragnar had lain down on a wooden bench with Halfdan on his stomach, playing with him gently by the warmth of the fire.
Around them, servants rushed to prepare for the oncoming feast, but Frida fairly did not notice them.
Only when one of them asked her a question of when to bring in the yule tree did she let her eyes travel to watch them work beside her, and she felt a slight pinch in her chest, tilting her head at the servant before her. It was a young blonde girl, she must have just come of age.
Frida curled her lips at her. "Not yet. Hm," she raised her eyebrow at her. "I think you should all… not work tomorrow."
Out of the corner of her eyes she could see several of the surrounding servants freezing in the spot behind the servant girl before her. One of them even dropped a cabbage on the floor, turning her eyes shortly to Frida.
She could sense a couple of blue crystals piercing at her face too from down by the fire.
"M-my lady?"
She sounded nervous. As if she was on a trial.
Frida smiled sweetly. "Yes," she nodded, "I think you should all do whatever you'd like to tomorrow. Alright? Be sure to tell everyone that."
The servant girl stared at her with widened eyes, and she nodded, in chock, as she turned around to face the other servants behind her. Her face showed no emotions but surprise, and most of the servants simply turned around to return to their previous workings, the cabbage on the table where it belonged.
Frida turned around in her seat to face the long-hall, and her eyes quickly caught with Ragnar's. He was smiling at her with smugness in his eyes and a raised eyebrow.
"You are generous, my love?" he smiled breathily, just loud enough for her to hear it.
Frida shrugged her shoulders as she turned her eyes to Ragnvald at her chest. He had fallen asleep there, and she curled back her dress to cover herself before wrapping him tighter in his rug.
"Everyone deserves generosity in cold times, even them," she nodded before returning her eyes to his.
He smiled at her shortly, before looking at Halfdan on his stomach. "I think some would say that is very Christian to do, but…" Frida could feel a couple of eyes from around the corners of the long-hall turn to her. "I think you are right. They are equally of flesh and blood."
Frida nodded in a smile.
It was not long before they were all gathered around the tables positioned in the long-hall, all feasting with plates of roasted duck, roasted pork neck with rind, sugared pieces of cabbage, borecole porridge and rye bread. Still warm honey mead filled their mugs, and a lovely musical tune sounded from the corner where some men had gathered to perform.
The air of the long-hall was very warm and comfortable, causing Frida's cheeks to burn with a pink heat. Conversations and laughter filled the room and soon, the many guests had scattered around the tables as their bellies were full, and soon their words were blurred by the amounts of honey liquids they downed.
Frida noticed Floki's eyes stalking towards Ragnar, and she turned her eyes to see him in a deep conversation with Athelstan. Her eyes turned back to Floki, and she jumped a little in her seat when she saw him staring back at her with hard eyes.
He looked very small for a short moment, the image of a small and hurt child prevailing from his figure.
She shook her head, and forced out a smile, raising her mug at him. Floki did not raise his glass but when he drank from it, and she quickly took a sip of hers, the sweet taste traveling down her throat and filling her with warmth.
She weighed the words in her head for a short moment, before she spoke: "Floki… I've been thinking, would you mind?"
She pointed to the chair beside her where Hvitserk had been sitting. Floki hesitated for a moment, but he soon stalked over to her side in long awkward strides, his head lowered a little as he sat down.
"You were thinking?" he breathed in a small voice, a giggle prevalent over his tongue as he turned his eyes to her with a devilish look in his eyes.
She chuckled breathily and waved her hand at him.
He sniggered nervously before taking a small sip from his mug. His ears were painted black for the occasion, and he turned his dark encircled eyes to the crowd before them.
"I want to ask for your help, your… expertise," Frida started, her eyes turning to the table before them as she felt his eyes on her.
She wondered why his stare still felt warm on her, as if the black coals were still burning like embers behind his gray ocean ones. It made a cold shiver run down her spine, and she shook her head as if to shake the feeling off.
"Hm?" Floki snorted, finally removing the coals from her face, earning her to exhale a small gush of air.
"I want to make a stem, to decorate one, I mean. For one of the boats going to England. If you will help me?"
Her voice revealed that she was actually quite anxious to ask him this question. She did not know whether he wanted to spend the time with her. She did not dare to look him in the eyes.
She heard him giggling. His eyes were burning.
"I will, my queen," he made a weird movement with his hands over his face, "but I will not make anything… Christian, for any of my boats."
His words sounded hard, and it caused something to pinch inside her chest. She shook her head.
"No, I, uh… I want antlers. We'll talk about it later."
She turned her face away from Floki's coals, bit she could not avoid their heat. She felt it lingering on her.
Irritation spired quickly from her heart, and she turned around to see him staring at her with narrowed eyes, as if hoping for exactly this, an uproar of some sort. Frida breathed out hard through her nostrils.
She narrowed her eyes back at him.
"What do you believe is the difference between Christendom and the Norse ways, really?" she asked in a seething tone, her anger suddenly boiling alongside with the mead in her stomach.
She could sense several eyes turning to Floki and her.
She did not care, and neither did he, it seemed.
"Everything," he whispered in a breath, before hiding his face behind his mug, downing a healthy sip while turning his eyes to the crowd in front of them.
Several smiles were sent in his direction.
Frida exhaled deeply. "You want to know what I think? Do you want to know why I think better of your ways than my very old ones?"
She could feel her heart drumming in her chest.
Ragnar and Athelstan were not speaking anymore, so she knew they were listening too. Her voice might have been a bit raised, she was not sure, because she only saw Floki's hesitation in her eyes, still a small note of doubt in his eyes when he looked at her.
And it infuriated her.
She spoke, in quiet but clear words, as if she had practiced these words in her sleep a long time ago, the words flowing clean: "You do not bend your knees in supplication to the gods and to the goddesses, nor do you beg them to do for you… Rather, you… You ask them to empower you to do for yourselves. You neither need, nor ask for your gods' forgiveness. You… We were not born into sin, we were born to be the best we can be."
A long silent moment followed Frida's words.
She could feel everyone's eyes on her, but she kept hers on Floki, staring into his gray ocean eyes that had burning embers behind them. He giggled.
"Hail queen Frida!" a male voice sounded from the crowd, and Frida turned her eyes in surprise to see Bjørn raising his drinking horn into the air in the crowd.
And she widened her eyes when they all followed suit.
Their voices rang through the air of the long-hall, causing Frida to blush heavily as she turned to look at Ragnar beside her. He was smiling at her smugly from behind his mug.
"Hail," he raised at her with a cocked eyebrow, sipping lightly from his mug before curling his lips at her. His eyes were prickling at her skin, and she blushed even more.
Frida soon turned her eyes to look back at Floki, but her mouth opened lightly when she saw that he was gone.
The chair was empty.
A quick movement by her ear had her jumping in her chair, and she heard Floki's voice behind her creeping into her ears like licking flames: "I will help you."
She sighed out.
* Billy-goats made out of straw: an old Nordic Viking tradition, only seen here. It is one of the oldest traditions of Scandinavian culture. I made tons of these while in kindergarten.